


Tadaima, Okaeri, And Then Some

by seventhTense



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Flirting, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Rated M because Goro becomes afflicted with An Erection, a brief romantic cockblock but only a brief one, boys being dumb, no sexytimes though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-18 10:03:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21509290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seventhTense/pseuds/seventhTense
Summary: Akira's "Honey, I'm Home" leads to an ever-escalating flirting war between Goro and him. Until...
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 13
Kudos: 402





	Tadaima, Okaeri, And Then Some

**Author's Note:**

> It's still interrogation room day somewhere, right? Here's something silly and sweet to help brighten the second-most angsty canon shuake day!
> 
> Enjoy!

If nothing else, Akira Kurusu was bold, Goro would give him that.

When Akira had come home from his classes one day to find Goro sitting at the bar of Leblanc- not waiting for him, necessarily, just sitting there, enjoying a good cup of coffee- Goro hadn’t expected for the younger man to hit him with a line like “Hi honey, I’m home.” Akira said it in such a lilting, jokey voice, the kind people only used when making a reference to something. Whatever this reference was, it was far too obscure for Goro to recognize- he knew the phrase, of course, but he didn’t know enough about whatever bizarre sub-category of media Akira was apparently this well-versed in to be able to trace it back to its roots.

That said, Goro always liked a challenge, and he had found Akira to be an excellent challenger in any and all respects over the months since they had met. This greeting, on the surface just a simple, silly bit Akira was doing, opened up an opportunity for a wonderful challenge, all the more wonderful for the fact that Akira likely wouldn’t be able to see Goro’s counter-attack coming.

Akira had opened fire at Goro with humor wrapped around a somewhat romantic, definitely domestic phrase, and while Goro could return fire with something just as silly and innocent, it would hit all the harder if he turned his charm up as high as it could go, softened his voice to a warm, intimate, almost loving tone, batted his eyelashes a little as he smiled tenderly towards Akira and replied with a gentle, almost _loving_ “Welcome home~”

Akira’s eyes went wide, his steps faltered, clearly shocked, and Goro crowed loud and victorious inside his own head. _Success!!!!!!!_

Then Akira’s shock morphed into a look of such deep, heartfelt delight that Goro’s little mental party bus careened out of control, off a cliff, and exploded somewhere in the distance. Sakura had interrupted them at that point, but for the rest of the time Goro was there, he could see Akira’s steps looking a little lighter, his grey eyes sparkling brighter, a rare smile gracing his lips at least a little bit the entire time.

It only got worse from there. Of course it did. Akechi Goro was, if nothing else, an undisputed master at sabotaging himself.

The next time one of Goro’s visits happened to coincide with Akira coming home, the instant their eyes met and Akira saw that Goro was there, the black-haired boy’s face contorted into a smirk, and from there into a sly, smooth, slick look ripped straight from an era of leather jackets and motorcycles and pompadours. He hitched his bag farther over his shoulder, leaned against the door jamb, and fucking _winked_ at Goro. “Hey babe,” he drawled, low and sensual. “How’s tricks?”

Goro had to absolutely fucking struggle to stay on-balance at that one. _Babe_. Fucking _**Babe?!?!**_ What the fuck?!?!?!?!?!?!?

Somehow, he managed to grasp control of himself and fire off his neurons at lightspeed in time enough to reply with an equally smooth, equally flirtatious “Oh, much better, now that you’re here~.”

Again, Akira seemed floored, but Goro didn’t have even half the time to celebrate before Akira’s expression changed once more to one of pure joy. He was called back into the kitchen again by Sakura (who kept insisting that Goro call him Boss, which was absolutely ridiculous and would _not_ be happening) but if anything he seemed only more encouraged by Goro’s sick comeback. 

It... it was a sick comeback, right? They were fighting, battling, competing to out-do the other in cheesy, pseudo-romantic, ostentatiously flirtatious greetings, and Goro was certain the score was tallied in his favor, but... were they... was it...no, no, doubt had no place in the mind of Goro Akechi, certainly not the kind of doubt that made a pleasant, uncertain tingle of, what, excitement? Joy? Warmth, unlike any kind of warmth Goro had experienced before, shooting through his system at the idea that maybe he was wrong and maybe they weren’t playing some elaborate game and maybe this flirting had gotten a lot more real and _maybe_ it had been this real from the start?

Ridiculous. No way, no how. This was a _fight_ , and Goro was gong to _win_ , no matter how hard this absurd teenager came at him.

\--

Three days later, their next round began. The door opened, the bells above it jingled, Akira walked in. Their eyes locked.

_Ding Ding!_

_Fight!_

Akira adopted a pose similar to that of last time, leaning sinuously against the door frame, but crossing his arms, looking almost offensively cocky, a sharp smirk cutting a line across his lips. His eyes _raked_ over Goro, looking him up and down, _lingering_ over certain areas as if he could see right through the tan overcoat, through the plain slacks, through his cheap, discount briefs and expensive-looking-but-affordable white button up and, well, by the quiet wolf-whistle Akira let out, he sure as hell liked what he saw. 

“Hey, hot stuff,” he drawled, eyes burning into Goro’s. Goro was certain he was red enough to fade, chameleon-like, into the leather of Sojiro’s booth seats. “You doin’ anything tonight?” 

The continuation of that question, the implicit ' _Cause if not, you could always do me,'_ hung in the air unsaid between them, making the comfortable atmosphere of the cafe feel like the thick, hot fog of the bathhouse across the street. 

Goro stayed silent for too long, this time, stunned silent by the pure _lust_ and _lasciviousness_ radiating off of Akira, by the way his eyes grazed over him so slowly Goro could almost feel hands where his gaze traveled. Akira’s smirk only sharpened as the pause went on, and that cocky look was enough to snap Goro’s open-hanging lips shut, to pulse blood and energy and vengefulness through his body and brain.

He laughed, high and pretty, and smiled softly Akira’s way. “Oh, nothing much. Perhaps enjoying the pleasure of your company, if I’m lucky enough to have you nearby, Kurusu-kun.” He finished with a wink, charming and full of promise, and had the _immense_ pleasure of seeing _Akira_ blush this time, yes, hell _fucking yes_ , take **_that_ **you cocky little shit!

The blush stayed, and Akira’s mouth twitched and did this funny little smile, a little bashful, a lot happy, and he replied with a quiet “Good,” and went about his business, putting his things aside, putting on an apron, and working with Boss behind the counter, all with that little bashful, blushy smile on his lips.

It was a victory, but...

But...

\--

A week later, Akira escalated. Again.

He opened the door, and Goro turned at the jingling bells, placing his cup down onto the countertop, readying himself for whatever his rival could throw his way.

Their eyes met. Akira Smirked. Capital-S, _Smirked_.

Uh-oh.

He let his bag slip off his shoulder and flop to the ground as he entered (was that a muffled oof Goro heard from inside the bag as it fell? No, couldn’t have been), the door falling shut behind him. He walked, slowly, dangerously towards Goro, the Smirk only growing as he got closer. “Well now,” he began, low, deep, taking full advantage of the mature vocal cords Goro had been so envious of since he first heard the other boy talk. 

Akira walked right up to Goro, so close that they’d be almost pressed chest-to-chest if Goro hadn’t been sitting down. Akira reached up, hand moving slowly, inevitably up from his side, almost brushing against the buttons of Goro’s jacket, until the tip of a single finger hooked under the tip of Goro’s chin.

He felt it like the fiery point of a molten dagger, cutting into his skin, marking him, branding him. His breath hitched, and his chest tightened- tightened further as Akira tilted Goro’s chin upwards, just the slightest amount, anticipation flooding through Goro’s veins- no, more than a flood, a tsunami of anticipation, wreaking havoc through Goro’s veins and arteries and muscles and organs and every inch centimeter pictometer, every last goddamn atom of his skin. He felt on fire, he felt like a glowing, bright, bright red strip of wire, held over a flame so unbearably hot, a single degree away from melting completely.

Akira’s eyes locked with Goro’s. They were so close now. Goro could feel Akira’s breath against his lips. He could feel the heat coming off Akira’s skin. He could smell something radiating off of Akira’s whole being, something he couldn’t place, couldn’t identify, but wanted so fucking desperately to bury himself in and never come up for air. 

Deeper still, in an octave Goro hadn’t known existed, Akira continued. “What’s a hot, _sinful_ devil like you doing in a place like this, hm?”

Absurd? Of couse. Cheesy? Almost painfully so. But Akira said it with such conviction, such _promise_ that Goro felt a burning coil of fire heat up deep, low inside him, could feel himself getting hard just at the mere thought of the future those words held, of what in hell Akira would _do_ to a devil like him. His eyes slid halfway shut, his head tilted to the side, all on instinct, all on the demands of a body gone ignored too long, leaned his head just a little closer-

“Okay, what the _hell_ is going on here?”

The boys froze, but Boss didn’t wait for them to slowly, so slowly, like an iceberg creeping across a tundra, turn to look at him. Boss, apparently, had had enough, and Boss was going to talk about it. “I’ve stayed silent for the past three weeks while you two did,” he gestured vaguely, hand waving in the air. “Whatever the hell this is. Flirting? Some coy bullshit? Fuck, you kids today are into some weird stuff...”

He lit a cigarette that he had already pulled out while dragging them, and took a drag on it instead. Akira slowly settled into the barstool next to Goro. Neither of them were particularly aroused anymore, and Goro quite possibly had never been softer in his life. “It’s been weird. You two have been so, _so_ weird, and right here in my damn cafe too? Really? You’re gonna just flirt and act like two characters from some schlocky movie from back when _I_ was a kid- and then just pretend nothing happened and go about your business? Seriously?”

Goro was burying his face in his hands, numb humiliation running through him. Akira sighed next to him, then pushed himself to his feet. He walked briskly around the counter and put on an apron, started busying himself with preparing a cup of coffee, from what Goro could make out between the cracks of his fingers.

And then, worse than any possible course of action the other boy could have possibly chosen to take, he started to explain himself. No big deal, super casual, just gonna talk in detail about exactly what this maybe-serious flirting competition has been about, right in front of Sojiro Fucking Sakura. Cool! “It’s not like that, Boss. Goro and I aren’t even dating. I don’t even think we’re close to that, really.”

Well that was a slap of cold water to the face. Boss just scoffed, puffed out smoke. “Really? Then what the hell did you think you were doing?” Yes, what the hell _did_ you think you were doing, hm? Just playing around, Akira? Just getting way too real, just so you could fluster the poor little detective? Just wanted to see him squirm, see him blush, see his stupid little blood cells flow to his stupid little cheeks and heart and dick? **_Hm?_**

Akira paused in his coffee preparations, as if thinking for a long, slow moment. He looked over to Goro, pondering, considering. A little smile played at the corner of his lips, and he looked away, started moving again, as if he came to a decision. “Well, the thing is,” he started, getting started on the foam machine. “I thought to myself, hey, this guy I really like seems pretty receptive when I flirt at him, or at least seems to enjoy flirting back. He doesn’t seem very serious about it, though, so maybe, just maybe, if I keep flirting at him, if I flirt hard enough and for long enough at him, we’ll just end up going out together without me having to actually confess.”

...

...what.

There was silence in the cafe, and Sojiro raised a bushy eyebrow. “Seriously? _That_ was your... what, your secret master plan?”

Akira had the gall to chuckle at that, though bashfully. He looked appropriately embarrassed at least, playing with his bangs nervously. “Hah, yeah...” 

His gaze turned to Goro, and he tried a little, apologetic smile. “Pretty dumb plan, huh detective?”

...huh. Alright. So... they were playing _this_ game now. No direct apologies, or ‘ _real_ ’ conversations, just tiptoeing around any actual emotions, pretending this is all some theoretical discussion about Akira being moronic towards someone else. 

Goro could work with that. Honestly, anything even a little more real than that, and he probably would have imploded.

He took a deep breath, and toyed a little with the handle of his coffee cup, then returned Akira’s smile, far more casually, almost playfully. “Oh, I don’t know- it’s not for me to say, really. How would you say your plan has worked out for you so far?”

Akira seemed surprised by Goro’s response, which made sense, he supposed, but that playful, flirty little spark lit up in Akira’s eyes again, and his smile turned up in brightness a few notches. He faux-considered, putting his fingers up to his chin in a sloppy imitation of Goro’s own signature Detective Pose. He thought for a moment, then shrugged. “Not bad, I guess. The guy I’ve been flirting at seems to be flirting back, at least, but we haven’t gotten past that point yet.”

Goro sucked in some air between his teeth, feigning sympathetic dismay. “Ooh, three weeks of flirting and nothing concrete to show for it? That _is_ a rather poor performance, Kurusu-kun, my condolences.”

“...what the hell is happening.” Sojiro seemed absolutely lost.

Goro ignored him, doing his own, far more impressive rendition of the Detective Prince’s Detective Pose. “I’ve read somewhere that flirting is rather like fishing. If the usual methods aren’t working, if the ‘fish’ in question isn’t responding to you dancing the bait around their heads, and you have no intention of giving up, then the only real course is to switch to a different, more... bluntly effective approach.”

Akira’s smile grew at Goro’s words, and he chuckled as he poured a layer of foam over the cup of coffee he had been preparing. He placed in in front of Goro. “Sort of like when they toss a stick of dynamite into the water in those American cartoons?”

Goro snorted a little, shook his head. “Ignoring the implausibility of the physics of such a tactic ever working in real life, no, I was thinking more along the lines of taking a shotgun to the things and raising them to the water’s surface that way, though I suppose the end result is more or less the same.”

“...seriously, what in the hell is going on right now.” Sojiro seemed incredibly confused, and very tired.

Akira ignored him, placing the cup in front of Goro, then leaning lightly against the shelves behind him, crossing his arms in thought. “Dynamite or a shotgun, huh? Which would you choose, if you were me?”

Goro pretended to ponder, looking deep in thought and feeling electricity coursing through his body. This... this was fun. This was a _lot_ of fun. Externally, he shrugged, smiling benignly. “I couldn’t possibly say. Beyond the metaphor, what would the practical differences between the two methods be, in your eyes?”

“I’m going out for more smokes.” Sojiro grabbed his hat and grumbled his way out of the cafe, not wanting anything to do with the egregious bullshit going on in his shop any more. There was a rustling somewhere near the door itself, and four little feet seemed to follow Boss out, a high little voice grumbling as well, though that could have been Goro’s imagination.

The door jangled shut somewhere in the distance, but Akira didn’t seem to hear it, pondering Goro’s question without breaking eye contact with the older boy. “Well, I guess the shotgun method would be like, as an example, asking ‘Hey Goro, are you free this Saturday? I’d really like to go out with you, on a date, if you’re interested.’”

Goro blushed, not expecting Akira to get that direct, or at least not expecting him to say it like that. He swallowed dryly, then covered his flustered reaction by sipping his coffee, which was perfect, as it always was. “And the dynamite method?” He asked, only a little shakily.

Akira’s eyes almost seemed to glow, and he lifted himself off from the shelving, walked a couple steps forwards so he could lean over the counter towards Goro, just short of resting his elbows in Goro’s fresh cup of coffee. “I guess,” he said, softly. “That’d be more along the lines of asking him ‘Hey,” he got even closer as he spoke, as far as he could reach from the other side of the counter, close enough that Goro could see the streaks of light and dark grey in individual strands in his irises. When he spoke, his voice was back to that deep rumble it was earlier, before Sojiro had interrupted them. His lips were parted, just a little, and moved in tantalizing little motions as he spoke. “Wanna go upstairs and make out with me, Goro? Cause I’d really, really like to do that with you.”

Goro wasn’t breathing, wasn’t thinking, just _felt_ , and his heart beat out a soft, warm, desperate _‘Yes,’_ and his lips whispered out a quiet, fervent, _desperate_ “Yes.”

Akira was the only one with the presence of mind to slide the coffee cup to the side, out of the way, as they surged forwards at the same time to meet in a deep, passionate kiss. Akira’s lips seared perfectly against Goro’s, and the first kiss was short, quick, before Akira backed off and took off his glasses, tossing them to the side (Goro thought he might have seen one of the arms land in his coffee out of the corner of his eye) before diving back in again. He cupped Goro’s face with his hands, and Goro let out a noise at the touch that would have sent him into hysterical embarrassment had he not surrendered all conscious thought to the void of his desires. Instead, he reached up, tangling his fingers in Akira’s hair, the infinitely soft, infinitely silky feeling accentuating the kiss all the stronger. Akira bit at Goro’s plush bottom lip, and Goro tightened his grip in Akira’s hair. Akira moaned at the pull, the pressure, lips going so wide at the sensation that he inadvertently released Goro’s. A breathy, gravely moan of “ _Akira_ ,” eeked out from Goro, the word enough to set both their eyelids fluttering open, not quite snapping the tension created by their kiss, but more loosening it, letting it settle warmly around them.

Their foreheads were pressed softly against one another, and Akira laughed a little as he panted, and Goro laughed a little too. “Just, ah, to be clear,” Akira murmured, his voice just as deep as before and significantly rougher. “Was that ‘yes’ in response to the making out part, or the date part?”

Goro rolled his eyes, butted his forehead against Akira’s a little, which earned him a murmured little ‘ _ow_...’ 

“Both, you idiot,” he admonished, still smiling, still barely thinking, still feeling so much and so much _better_ than he could ever remember feeling before. “But, the first one before the second, I think.”

Akira grinned, parting from contact with Goro only long enough to jump onto and slide over the counter separating them. Goro laughed, actually laughed, bright and high at Akira’s showing off, and stood up to join him.

Akira offered his arm, and Goro took it, and they headed towards the stairs to the attic above. “Right this way then, honey.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title cause in JP version, they say Tadaima/Okaeri instead of Honey, I'm Home during that scene. 
> 
> Wrote this one morning in September after basically rping Akira and Goro's flirting in my head while I was waking up. 
> 
> New update for [ 'Like The Moon' ]() next week (11/28), check out/follow my twitter [ @SevventhSteen ]() for more regular updates on my fics and other projects!


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